


Let Them Wait

by hpdm4ever, MessiFangirl (hpdm4ever)



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Anger, Anger Management, Angry Leo, FC Barcelona, Locker Room, M/M, Maschessi, Rage, Team Feels, Team as Family, Valencia CF, need some, to fix everything, very angry leo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-24 01:52:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8351683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpdm4ever/pseuds/hpdm4ever, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpdm4ever/pseuds/MessiFangirl
Summary: "Let it go. I'm asking you to let it go," Andrés says, looking directly at Masche. He rubs his eyes and then pulls Masche into a hug. "I need you to let it go. Will you do that for me?" He squeezes Masche, tightening his arms around the other man. "Please, Masche."Masche bites his tongue and swallows what he really want to say. He nods instead. He hugs Andrés back, suddenly annoyed at himself for making Andrés deal with this on top of his injury. "Of course, Capi," he says returning the squeeze and then tilting his head back. "I'm sorry, how are you?"The other disperse, leaving them alone.Andrés smiles. "I'll be okay," he says over the noise of the locker room. "More tests tomorrow," he admits, "but for now, I'm okay." He claps Masche on the back and sits down on the bench to wait for the others to get changed. "It's not the end of the world."Masche sighs, about to sit next to him.But then Andrés shakes his head. "No," he says, putting his hand up and stopping him in his tracks. "That's why I needed you to let it go. You're needed elsewhere."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Leo was ANGRY.

 

“No! You know what? Fuck you," Masche yells, as the others try to hold him back. "You're fucking butchers--," he spits out, struggling as Ivan and Busi try to hustle him down the hallway. “You and all your fans!” He curses as they yank him through the officials and miscellaneous other people milling around, refuses to quiet even when his teammates fling him into the locker room. "Jesus fucking Christ!"

He turns around, twisting so he can shrug off Busi and go back out, but he has to stop moving when he notices Andrés is blocking the door. His captain is fully dressed, holding his hands up placatingly.

"Stop," Andrés says calmly. He puts his hands on Masche's shoulders. "Stop," he repeats seriously, waiting to drop them until Masche stills. "That's enough."

The others are all around them watching. Ivan and Busi are on either side of Andrés, looking tired. Little Sergi’s eyes are wide, and he’s clutching Paco’s arm, while Sam’s nervously shuffling next to Marc like none of them know what to do.

So Masche presses his lips together and doesn't protest.

But he's still fuming.

"Let it go. I'm asking you to let it go," Andrés says, looking directly at Masche. He rubs his eyes and then pulls Masche into a hug. "I need you to let it go. Will you do that for me?" He squeezes Masche, tightening his arms around the other man. "Please, Masche."

Masche bites his tongue and swallows what he really want to say. He nods instead. He hugs Andrés back, suddenly annoyed at himself for making Andrés deal with this on top of his injury. "Of course, Capi," he says returning the squeeze and then tilting his head back. "I'm sorry, how are you?"

The other disperse, leaving them alone.

Andrés smiles. "I'll be okay," he says over the noise of the locker room. "More tests tomorrow," he admits, "but for now, I'm okay." He claps Masche on the back and sits down on the bench to wait for the others to get changed. "It's not the end of the world."

Masche sighs, about to sit next to him.

But then Andrés shakes his head. "No," he says, putting his hand up and stopping him in his tracks. "That's why I needed you to let it go. You're needed elsewhere."

Masche's about to ask why, but then there are raised voices from the back of the locker room and the sound of something smashing. He turns, surprised, in time to see Leo throwing a bottle against the wall. It’s plastic, but it breaks, splashing Gatorade everywhere while the plastic pieces fly about the room. It’s apparently not the first one he’s thrown.

Leo’s shaking with anger, grabbing things off the bench to throw and seemingly uncaring about the mess he makes. It looks like Neymar and Luis are around him, trying to calm him down, but nothing they’re saying seems to be helping.

"Yeah," Andrés says, looking bemused when Masche swings back to look at him. "Please, go deal with that." He widens his eyes and looks up pitifully. “Please.”

“Yeah, okay,” Masche says, biting his lip. He takes a deep breath, clenches his fists at his sides and nods. “Of course. I’ll handle it.” He turns on his heel and strides over towards the clump of teammates around Leo, faintly hearing Andrés wish him good luck as he walks away.

Leo’s too angry to notice Masche approaching, screaming profanities and now tugging off his boots so he can throw them one by one at the wall.

In a way, it’s helpful, because he’s caught off guard as Masche grabs him by the waist and starts hauling him off to the showers. “What?! Masche?!” he says, trying to free himself as Masche starts dragging him backward. “Fuck off, Masche!” He’s squirming like crazy, trying to pull Masche’s hands off him, trying to dig his socked feet into the floor to stop his movement.

But Leo can’t get any traction in just his socks, so Masche’s able to slide him along the locker room easily. Plus, Masche’s skin is wet with sweat so Leo’s hands keep slipping off Masche’s arms. At that point Leo starts trying to duck out of his jersey, twisting and moving his shoulders and nearly head butting Masche in the process.

Masche moves faster.

Everyone backs away from them, clearing a path through the locker room. Leo’s still screaming furiously and Luis and Ney look on apologetically, but nobody interferes as Masche manhandles him towards the separate room with the showers. Jérémy even opens the door before running in the other direction when Leo curses at him. André and Denis are in there, but when they see Masche coming, they grab towels and exit immediately, leaving the little room empty.

The door swings shut behind them.

“Don’t, Masche!” Leo yells as Masche finally wrestles him under a shower head. They’re both still fully dressed in their kits, the only difference being that Masche is still wearing his boots. “Don’t you dare!” he cries as Masche slams him chest first against the wall. “I’m not fucking around, Masche!” he says, starting to sound desperate as he tries to kick Masche off of him. “I’m your fucking captain!” he exclaims, as a last ditch effort to prevent what’s happening.

Masche smiles.

He doesn’t care.

He turns on the water, holding Leo against the cold tile as the freezing water pours down over them. It nearly knocks the breath out of him, being so icy cold, and he hears Leo gasp in response—but Masche doesn’t move from his position, and he lets the water stream down until they’re completely soaked.

Leo’s struggles grow weaker, until finally he stops trying to get away and leans against the wall helplessly. “It’s fucking cold, Masche,” he says, voice so quiet that Masche can barely hear him.

“I know,” Masche says, keeping his body pressed to Leo’s. “I know.” He rests his forehead on Leo’s back for a moment, feeling the wet material from his jersey stick to his skin. Then when he feels Leo start to shiver, he reaches down and turns the temperature up. “Better?” he asks, as the water changes from cold to hot.

Leo nods against the wall, and Masche knows without looking that Leo’s eyes are closed.

“And you?” Masche asks, feeling Leo’s body relax underneath his. “Are you better?” He loosens his hold on Leo, but doesn’t pull away, keeps himself molded to Leo’s back. The water pours down over them, slowly warming them up, and Masche moves slightly so that the majority of it falls on Leo.

Leo nods again, and then he slowly starts to turn in Masche’s arms. Masche doesn’t give him much room, keeps his arms on either side of Leo, and in the end they’re pressed chest to chest with Leo’s back to the wall.

“Are you?” Masche asks again.

Leo’s hair has darkened under the water, and if Masche didn’t know better he’d say that the blond is completely gone. But he does know better. He knows every inch of Leo’s hair… Every inch of Leo’s body… Every inch of Leo.

So when Leo nods once more, and shakily says, “Yes,” Masche knows it isn’t true.

He knows that Leo is angry—angry at being hacked down, angry at seeing his friends being hacked down. And more than anything, Masche knows Leo is angry that he lost control of himself.

Angry and hurt and embarrassed.

So, no, Leo is not better.

But Masche also knows when to push and when not to push. “Okay,” he says, slowly wrapping his arms around Leo so that he can hug him. He feels Leo’s hands come up around his back and a second later Leo is hiding his face in his neck. “It’s okay,” Masche says softly, holding onto Leo tightly.

“It’s not,” Leo mutters into Masche’s neck. “It’s not. Nothing was working-we need Geri in the back,” he whispers into Masche’s skin. “And our midfield was a mess, because when Andrés, oh god, Andrés…” He tightens his hold on Masche, like he’s afraid what will happen when he lets go. “I didn’t even talk to him. Is it bad?”

Masche sighs. “They’re not sure, yet,” he says, rubbing his cheek against Leo’s hair. “We’ll find out for sure tomorrow.”

Leo exhales into Masche’s neck. “We need him,” he says, whispering it into Masche’s skin the same way he’s whispered all his secrets over the years. “We need him to win.”

Masche doesn’t laugh, though he comes close. “We’ll have him,” he says, threading a hand into Leo’s wet hair so he can tug gently. “Just like we have you.” He smiles at Leo, taking in the way his pale skin has started to turn rosy underneath the hot water. “Just like *I* have you.”

Leo’s dimples appear then, his lips curving into a smile. “Well, not exactly like you have me,” he admits, fingers sliding up and down the back of Masche’s neck. His thumbs catch in the neckline of Masche’s wet jersey, pulling teasingly. “Nobody has me the way *you* have me.”

“We’re in the middle of Valencia’s locker room,” Masche murmurs, trying desperately to look away from Leo’s mouth.

Leo knows he’s looking, swipes a tongue over his red lips, making them glisten.

“And the whole team is waiting out there for us,” Masche continues, rolling his neck when Leo’s fingers begin to pull Masche’s jersey over his head. He leans back and lets Leo take it off him, raises his arms obediently for a moment before returning them to Leo’s waist.

He shouldn’t give in.

But he can never say no to Leo.

Leo grins. “Let them wait.”

**Author's Note:**

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> [Gifs from here](http://becausemessi.tumblr.com/post/152161022119/messi-goes-off-on-the-valencia-crowd-after-a-fan)


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